Pretty Odd
by The Author and Self
Summary: Haley's moved in with Spencer, and life somehow continues. However, with constant dreams of a bloody, smiling Edgar Cross, will she ever be able to carry out life like a normal teenage girl? Reidcentric, OC, a little Reid/JJ, maybe later a crimefic.
1. Summer

**A/N: **Hello all! Thank you so much for the great reviews on my first fanfic. And this one was already planned for coming after Blood is Thicker, so I'm not riding my own coattails here. As usual, I don't own Criminal Minds (or a freaking CAR, for that matter) and I don't own any REAL place that could be mentioned throughout the story. I make no profit from this other than the cheap thrills of writing with someone else's characters.

**One**

It had been two months, three days, and four visits from a social services lady since Haley had moved in with Spencer in his apartment in Quantico. The transition from South to North was a bit difficult for her, as she was used to the hotter temperatures at her old home, she was freezing all the time in Virginia. The second she stepped woozily off of the BAU's jet, she was nearly trampled by Emily, JJ, and for the first time, Penelope Garcia. Emily seemed to have warmed to her as all three of the girls talked nonstop and simultaneously about what they should do, where they should go later, and if you need anything just let me know.

Haley wasn't genuinely surprised until she saw Hotch, Morgan, and Agent Rossi all standing around a red Jeep Liberty. "Who's is this?" she asked.

"That's yours, sweetheart!" Morgan laughed. "Did we get it right?"

Her mouth was agape. She whirled around to Spencer. "Did you let them do this?"

"He helped," Emily grinned. "We deduced what kind of car you would want when you got here. Now, can you answer Morgan's question?"

Haley could only nod. "It's perfect. I love it. How did you buy this for me? I'm not going to let you all just go off and… well… buy me a _car!_"

"We're family, Haley," Hotch said, leaning against the bumper. "Besides," he added with a smile, "it's used."

"And we are taking you shopping once you get unpacked!" Garcia said. "I'm so sorry you didn't get to meet me in person before. They rarely let me out into the world."

"No, Penelope, it's fine," Haley smiled. "Spencer tole me all about you. And please, you don't have to shop for me!"

She spent the rest of the summer resisting the BAU girls' requests to take her shopping at every opportunity, but she rarely succeeded. They spoiled her like aunts. Morgan took her on her first motorcycle ride, much to Spencer's horror. Hotch introduced her to Jack and took them fishing, where she identified every fish they caught and taught Jack the scientific name of each one, which delighted him. He said that it made him feel smart like "one of Dad's friends. Do you know him?"

At night, she would always be with Spencer, keeping him company in the apartment. She was horrified to discover he had no cookbooks and usually just ate TV dinners. Insisting that this pattern needed to stop, she stocked up on groceries and about twelve cookbooks one one of her shopping excursions with JJ, who had been dropping by a lot more often.

When the lights went off, she would always go around her room and close the shades. Then, without turning off her lamp, would fall into a disturbed sleep filled with Rita, Robert, and Edgar Cross. Again and again Gina, Kayla, and Sam would warn her not to talk to the boy on the bench. "You don't know what could happen!" came their voices every night.

She would always wake up screaming, and Spencer would always be in the room in seconds. "It's just another dream, Hales. I'm here, you know I'm always here. "There's nothing to be afraid of; it's just you an me here."

These mutterings would assuage her tears slightly, and they would read for about an hour while she calmed down. She would pretend that she was okay, she would close the book and announce it while telling Spencer that he needed his sleep more than she did. That crime never takes a summer break.

Haley thought of these things as she slammed her alarm clock off on the morning of her first day at Quantico High, Home of the Warriors. Yippee. "At least I'm a senior," she grumbled to herself as she forced her body out of bed. She looked fondly at her bedroom that Penelope helped her design. She had decided that liked the tech goddess within the first five seconds of meeting her.

Haley sighed as she lumbered across the hallway to the bathroom and took a quick shower, shaved her legs and pits, and walked out with a towel to wash face, brush teeth, put a little make-up on her eyes and her cheeks, which were always so sallow and pale. It must've been hereditery.

Still in her towel, she bolted across the hallway to avoid being seen by Spencer, who always acted weird when he saw her underwear in the wash. She couldn't imagine the look on his face if he caught her in a towel wrap. She dried her hair in her room and slipped on a purple t-shirt, putting on a gray sleeveless wool button up over it and a pair of her new blue jeans with some gray flats. It was a typical Haley outfit, nothing special about it whatsoever. She slipped her light book bag onto her shoulders and walked into the kitchen, where Reid was having coffee and bustling to put papers in his satchel.

He stopped when he saw her and gulped. She had somehow changed. She looked too pretty, too _noticable._ She was practially begging for another Edgar Cross to come by and catch her eye and think 'My how pretty, I might want a trophy of that…' Again, he had gotten ahead of himself as she let him know it, arching an eyebrow and pouring a bowl of cereal. "Late for work?" she asked.

"No, right on time, actually. You remember the way… never mind, that's a stupid question, of course you do. But… I… You'll be okay today?" he asked softly.

Haley smiled up at him from her position at the table. She finished chewing her Cheerios and swallowed. "I'll try not to get into too much trouble today, Spence," she said, her eyes smiling as her mouth quirked up at one end. She looked at the clock. "You've got fifteen minutes," she said, raising her eyebrows.

"I know," Spencer said, buckling up his holster. "I'm gone. I'll see you later tonight if I can, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Haley laughed as he kissed the top of her head and was out the door in a flash. She was tired looking at him. She finished off her bowl and looked at her clock. She herself had only ten minutes to get there, find her locker and her first class. She slung the book bag onto her shoulder and locked the apartment, going to the parking garage where her Liberty stood. She smiled every time she saw that car.

She hopped in and backed out and reached the school in under eight minutes. Two minutes left. She parked and watched high schoolers flow into the building. Nothing new for them, just the start of another year. Haley took a deep breath. The start of a new life for her. She slung her bag on her shoulder one more time and locked the car, with intentions of walking into that school like she owned the place.


	2. Class

**A/N: **I own not Criminal Minds; I own only mine thoughts which floweth from it.

_Dreaming permits each and every one of us to be quietly and safely insane every night of our lives. -_William Dement

**Two**

She tripped on the rug as she walked in, causing her to go sprawling on the floor. She stood up quickly, looking around. _No one saw that_, she thought pleasantly to herself. Then, after a more thorough scanning of the room. _Well, no one but the woman at the front desk._

Pretending that it didn't happen, Haley walked up to said woman and waited for her to finish her phone call. When the phone made it's soft click on the reciever. "Hi, I-I'm Haley Reid, the new student from-"

She was answered with a sheet of paper in her face. Her locker number and class schedule. "You have about sixteen minutes to get to your first class," she grunted at Haley.

"I thought classes started at eight fifteen," Haley said skeptically.

The woman looked up at her through her glasses. She wore too much green eyeliner around her mud brown eyes. Her cheeks were about five shades too red, and her brown roots were showing under her red dye-job. Haley didn't like her. She was too haughty. "They start at eight thirty for seniors. Now go to class."

As Haley walked into the catacombs of the school, she heard the secretary muttering behind her. "_We get some real Einstiens in this hole."_ The young genius smiled to herself. _Secreted Secretary_. It was funny to her, she was the only one who would really understand it. She walked down the locker-lined hallways feeling like a freak show. People stared at her, she was new, and it _must_ have been a small school.

She found hers and turned the lock with a flawless accuracy, and it only took one try. The hall was now clear though, everyone gone to gossip with each other in their homerooms. She sighed as she follwed a bright red trail of tiles down the hall when she found her homeroom, which happened to be her first period as well, so she didn't have to be lost again. Again, Haley took a deep breath and prayed that this entrance wouldn't go like her first one.

As she pushed open the door, about fifteen heads turned to stare at her until she took her seat. Some turned back to their conversations, others still stared at her. Including the girl sitting next to her.

Tall, blonde, short skirt, more than likely a cheerleader, the girl sneered with her perfectly glossed lips. "So, you're new, right?" the girl asked, popping her gum.

For a split second, Haley was filled with overwhelming sarcasm, then she swallowed and reigned herself in. She looked the girl dead in the face. "Yeah, I am. I'm Haley."

"Bridgette," she smiled triumphantly, at what, Haley wouldn't know. "Spelled the French way."

"There is no French spelling," Haley said before she could stop herself. "Bridget is a name from the Irish goddess Brigid."

Bridgette glared at her, "It's spelled with an E-T-T-E? Duh, it's _French_!"

"English," Haley muttered. "The way your parents spell it is the English way."

"No way. My Grandmam_a_ is French! There's no way it's spelled like an _English_ name."

Haley rolled her eyes at her stupidity and regreted ever opening conversation. She didn't even want to say that her first name has nothing to do with her nationality, she just wanted somewhere to melt. At long final last, the teacher strode into the room for first period. Mr. Richard Case.

He stood like a tall, straight rod, with a hooked nose on which a pair of eliptical glasses perched. His full, gray hair was slicked back as he sat in his desk and smiled what seemed to be a sinister smile at his students. "So you're my seniors?" he said, rather than asked. "If you are, then welcome to hell. As most of you already know, my name is Mr. Case and this class is a bitch. Brigid, get the U.S. History books."

"Bridge_tte_!" she scoffed as she stood and bounced to the bookshelves.

Haley liked him already. If all of her knowledge were like an iceberg, history would be the ninety percent underwater. She took out a notebook and a pen as Brigette came by, nearly throwing at her the oldest looking book. Haley would have loved to give her the finger, but decided to see the look on the bimbo's face when she destroyed her GPA. It all comes full circle in the end.

Once the books were doled out, Case sat on his desk and eyed the students. "I'm going to see what you know before I just go ahead and dive into this thing. Anyone know England's first colony in the New World?"

Brigette's hand shot up. "Roanoke."

Oh, this was too good. Haley's hand shot up, "Actually, Roanoke was never intended to _be_ a colony. Queen Elizabeth had it in mind as a haven for her privateers, which are really just pirates with a lisence. It was supposed to be a lot like Tortuga down in the Caribbean islands. She only sent the initial seventy-five Irishmen so it would look like the foundations of a colony, and Spain wouldn't interfere."

Brigette's glare turned stone cold and almost deadly as she sized Haley up. Case was sizing her up much in the same way. "That's correct," he said tersely. "Do you have any idea what happened there?"

"The seventy-five Irishmen were dropped off with a week's worth of provisions and a promise by the English to return in a year. In _two_ years, Sir Francis Drake comes with 121 settlers only to find that of the first seventy-five, there are only fifteen left. The fifteen went back to Ireland, leaving the settlers to fend for themselves. In 1690, English ships came back only to find a decimated fort with the word Croatoan carved on one pole. On a nearby tree there were the letters CRO and a partial A. Under the base of the trunk, two skeletons were recovered."

Case smiled. "Are you taking notes?" he shouted at the class.


	3. Lunch Buddies

**A/N:** I'm sorry it took me a while to update, but I have two five-page reports/projects due about George III and The Last of the Mohicans in the same week. Two projects over summer reading in this week, and two AP Bio projects due, so writing time has been hard to find! Anyways, I hope you'll enjoy this next chapter!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Criminal Minds. I only own Haley Reid and I love her! Yay!

**Three**

Haley walked into the lunchroom from the line with one of the plastic trays and scanned the area. Suddenly, she felt like a little kid again, none of the other kids wanted to sit with her. It hadn't been much different then. Brigette had probably gone and told all of the other seniors about the History incident. Stupid Brigette.

Haley found an empty table in the back corner of the room and sat her tray down. She unloaded her bag and took out her cell phone which had about a hundred messages from Garcia asking how her first day was going. At least she had one friend wanting to talk to her, she thought as she reminded herself to hug Garcia as she texted back, lying, saying that her first day was fantastic.

"You know, you aren't supposed to have those in school," said a male voice from across the table. She looked up, quickly. Sure enough a boy sat across from her. His black hair was scruffy to just above his thick dark eyebrows. This only made his hazel eyes jump out at her more. She noted the brown plaid shirt as he set his tray down. "They'll take them up."

"Yeah, I guessed as much," Haley said, sending the message and shoving the phone in her bag before a teacher could catch her. "You're in my History class, aren't you? Greg Yates?"

He nodded, taking a bite of his grilled cheese, seemingly perfectly at ease sitting across the table from a complete stranger. "Uh-huh. How do you remember that… Heidi?"

"Haley, good try though," Haley smiled. "I just have a really, really good memory."

"That's good for this school. You get drilled," he smiled as she laughed. "I'm serious! What's so funny?"

"Nothing, nothing," she smirked at him. "I just have a better memory than I let on."

"What, you came from a gifted program down south?"

"Is my accent really that bad?" Haley creased her eyebrow.

He raised his. "No! No, that's not it. You have a little one, but I'm sure we all do up here, right?"

"A little one," Haley joked and raised her fingers like she was pinching.

"So, what were you saying before we got side tracked?"

"My memory? Oh, I really don't want to get into that right now," she took a bite of her sandwich.

"That's refreshing, do you know that Brigette who was giving you such a hard time this morning has an IQ of 160?"

"Hm," Haley said disinterestedly.

"What?"

"I just don't like Brigette and I have an IQ of 187," she smirked with pride almost as if Brigette herself was sitting at the table.

"Damn, Haley, no one said you were _that_ smart!"

"I heard you get some right in class, too," Haley commented.

"That's just because I like history. Calculus? That's a different animal."

"Of course it's not," said a girl, sitting down at the table with them. She looked a lot like him, only her black hair was cut in a bob with dark brown streaks in it to add some depth. She smiled. "Hi, I'm Amanda, it's nice to meet you."

"Haley," Haley responded, dumbfounded that someone else would come to the table.

Greg rolled his eyes at the new girl. "I'm sorry, she's late a lot."

"Twins?"

"Yeah," Amanda said excitedly. "There are some people in this cafeteria who wouldn't know that."

"What?" Haley asked, skeptically.

"No lie," Amanda said. "Take Danielle Lewis over there at the table with the cheerleaders, in class one day, and God strike me dead if I'm lying, she said out loud that we bombed Hiroshima to test our own nuclear capacity!"

"No way," Haley's eyes widened. "No. No she didn't. I don't believe you." She started to giggle with Amanda now.

"I wanted to punch her face in," Greg sighed. "But she's a girl, so I can't."

"What class do you have next, Haley?" Amanda scooted closer to her. "AP Language?"

"Yeah," Haley said, mentally flinching for the suspected blow.

"Cool, I have that next too."

The young genius visibly relaxed. "You do? That's so much of a relief!"

"Oh, you have _no_ idea! I've had all of my classes today with Danielle and I thought I was going to die." Amanda took a bite of her salad she got in leiu of a sandwich. "What time is it?"

"Five till," Greg said.

Amanda's eyes widened. "OH my gosh, I'll be late if I don't book it now. I kind of have this habit of getting distracted and talking to people. Crap, I'm doing it now. Okay, gotta go, see you in class!" She ran to dump her tray and rushed out of the room.

"I like her," Haley smiled after her. "She's funny."

"Yeah, you don't live with her," Greg perked back up. "She's a total slob."

"I'm sure you're exaggerating."

"I'm not, I promise," he smiled at her.

"If you say so," she rolled her eyes as they both stood up to dump their trays. They walked to the bin together as they talked.

"Okay, I already know you have a cell phone, but what I don't know is your number."

"Oh how subtle!" Haley laughed in mock surprise. "You'll call me?"

"Tonight, probably. During class… right now… with my mind."

"Okay, okay, Casanova, your suave ran out about seven words ago," she grinned as she told him her number and he discretely put it into his phone. "You got it?"

"Yes I do," he beamed at her, his eyes lighting up.

She felt herself melt. "See you when I can," she said softly.

"Yeah, okay," he smiled back at her as they both went in opposite directions to their lockers.

--

When Spencer got home, he noticed Haley's bookbag by the door ready to go for the next day, a clear indication that she was in the house.

Another clear indication was that it was eight o'clock, a pot of spaghetti was on the stove, and her car was in the garage, but other than that the apartment seemed empty and quiet. Usually she was on the couch reading, waiting for him to get home so they could talk about their days.

He suddenly heard her laugh from her room and he walked down the short, narrow hallway to her open door and knocked on the frame. She looked up and smiled. "Okay Greg, I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow? Haha, you too, bye." She clicked the cell phone shut. "Hey Spence," she smiled.

"Wow, I didn't expect to see you _this_ happy," he said as he came in, sitting on her bed with you. "I take it you're day went well?"

"Yes, very well," she smiled. "You saw the spaghetti, right?"

"Yeah, I saw it, but I already ate."

She furrowed her brow. "Gosh, Spence, you have to start starving yourself so I can _feed_ you! It's not like I'm doing homework all night!"

"That's true," he smiled. "Who is this Greg guy?"

"A boy I met at school, Greg Yates? He's really cool. He has a twin sister named Amanda and they ate lunch with me."

Spencer got less tense, knowing a third, female, party was involved. He wasn't sure he was ready for a boyfriend to enter his and Haley's little family picture. "And he's already calling you?"

"Spencer, you have to give me _some_ credit!"

It wasn't that he gave her no credit for being beautiful. She _was_ beautiful, though he considered himself biased. He just wasn't expecting for there to suddenly be boys calling. Or rather, _a boy_ calling, this supposed _Greg_. He rolled his eyes as he looked at her. "You're pretty, Haley. There, are you okay now?"

"Yes, very, thank you," she said with mock pride as she put her hands on her hips heroically.

"Knock it off," Spencer laughed.

"So how was your day?"

"Pretty boring, actually," he admitted, shrugging his shoulders. "Not as exciting as meeting a _boy_."

"Now you need to knock it off!" Haley giggled as she flopped on the bed beside him. "Did Penelope get my text?"

"Yes," he sighed as Haley laughed at his tone. "She could have choked someone, she was so mad. She felt like she was being left out of the loop."

"Well, how in depth does one text message need to be?"

"Apparently, more than what you gave her."

"Did she break something?" Haley asked.

"She only knocked a cup of pens off of my desk on accident during her frantic ranting."

"Oh, how miserable!" Haley smiled.

"I know, woe is Dr. Reid."

"Indeed."


	4. Dreams

**A/N: **As school begins to settle in once again, I can be a bit more consistent with my writing. Sorry it took SO LONG for me to update… again… but that just comes with the package with me, inconsistency. I'll be more on top of things now. I try to promise. Per usual, I own NOTHING of Criminal Minds. I do own Haley and my other original characters. Yay!

**Four**

Starved, Spencer Reid walked into his apartment the next evening at nine to see a dish of chicken parmesan sitting on the stove. He opened the fridge to grab a bottle of water to see a salad on the top shelf. He heard nothing coming from Haley's room and fell silent, then the slight ruffle of paper on paper. Good, she was reading. "I'm home, Hales," he called. It wasn't necessary, but he felt that he should make some noise. Spencer knew that it could get pretty dreary without another body in the apartment.

He heard her duvet cover rustle as she moved off of her bed, the soft shuffle of her be-socked feet on the carpet as she emerged in her PJ's. "Oh good!" she smiled. "We can have dinner now."

"You haven't eaten?" he asked.

"I always felt that when I come home from a rough day, it's good to eat with someone and talk about it. And I cheated while I waited for you," she nodded toward the plate, which, upon further inspection, had a chunk of a piece of chicken removed and more than likely eaten. Haley smiled sheepishly. "It's not cold. I've been reheating it every thirty minutes or so."

Spencer could think of nothing to say, but he had held out for her this time and it appeared she held out for him. "So you had a bad day?"

"No… well… Brigette is an asshole," she shrugged as she put a plate together for him. She walked across the room and put it down in front of him on the counter where he pulled up a barstool and sat. _Brigette?_ he thought.

"And Brigette is…?"

"Some girl in my class who couldn't tell _Hamlet_ from a hole in the wall," the girl rolled her eyes as she made a plate for herself. "No," she sighed, sitting next to him on the barstool facing the boring backsplash underneath the cabinets. "She's actually pretty smart, only she's a self-promoted narcissist if I've ever seen one. Inflated ego to the extreme."

Spencer took a bite of his chicken, listening to her. "This is great Haley," he said, mouth full.

She gave him a look. "Sorry, pet peeve of mine. And you should have had the spaghetti," she added as a side note.

He nearly laughed at how she mothered him. This morning she had smoothed out an unruly hair and told him not to slouch. "Well, a way to deal with the Bridgette's of the world is to kick their asses at pretty much everything," he jabbed his fork in the air to accentuate his point. "Just succeed and succeed and succeed and succeed. Don't sink to their level."

"As if I would!"

"Just saying."

The next couple of minutes were held in silence as they ate, each having certain things to say, but uncertain as to how they should say them. Spencer had another thought. "You haven't mentioned that Greg guy again."

"Well… what's there to mention?" Haley asked, a bit uncomfortably. She picked up on the fact that Spencer did not like the fact that she was talking to a boy, one he didn't know in particular. He was just paranoid, she guessed. But that was only the pot calling the kettle black, considering her nightmares.

"Anything would be nice, really," he said, again with his mouth full of chicken.

Haley let it slide in her contemplation. Deciding she shouldn't lie to her older brother, she spoke again. "He asked me out on a date tomorrow night."

Spencer choked.

"Is it really that hard to believe?" she asked, offended.

No it wasn't. But Reid had a hard time seeing his little sister as someone that a boy, an _unknown_ _subject_ said his profiler mind, could take out on a date. He didn't even know what the unsub looked like. He didn't know enough about him to form a profile of his personality. He didn't even know what the guy's middle name was. And he dared ask his little sister on a date?

"When will I meet him?" Reid asked, trying to hide his panic, but his voice raising a few octaves when he posed the question. One reason he wasn't a good bad cop interrogator.

"Tomorrow, maybe," she mumbled.

"Hales, don't be offended, okay?"

"Okay."

"You're still mad."

"Don't profile me! I'm not."

Spencer panicked again. He needed to call JJ. He needed to call JJ. She knew _way _more about this kind of thing than he would ever dream.

He noticed her pick up her plate and carry it to the sink, clean it off, put it in the dishwasher. Without saying goodnight, she stormed to her room and he heard the door, but not the lock, click shut and he was left alone.

--

Haley walked into her room and flopped on her bed to finish reading her book, _Timeline_ by Michael Crichton. The story was good, and she liked the fact that he actually knew what he was talking about when he used science in his stories.

Her eyes began to droop at around eleven thirty through the sounds of Spencer muttering to someone on the phone. She couldn't believe him. How could he be surprised? But then, it was sort of mean of her to burst on him like that. She _was_… well… Aunt Flo was making her visit. She laughed at the crude phrase, and hated having to confront Spencer and put him in an awkward spot by explaining that about once a month she would be crabby and unpredictable. She didn't want to make him feel even more out of his league with the whole teenager rearing thing.

She flipped over on her back and looked up at the ceiling and closed her eyes, sighing. Seconds later they flew back open, as the door began to creak. "Hey Spence," she breathed as she gathered her senses. Who else would it be?

Spencer didn't answer her. It didn't sound like him either. The footfalls were heavier, like a man who was bigger than her skinny brother. The breathing was irregular, ragged, strained, _eager_. This wasn't Spencer.

Gasping, she looked up to see the face of Edgar Cross glaring down at her. He pulled his knife and ran it along her torso from one side to just under her right breast. "SPENCER!" she shouted but looked across the room and saw him, mangled, limp, and his body twisted in strange contortions in the corner. Under him was Rita, her body decomposing with worms and maggots breaking through the grey, decaying flesh every now and then. Under her was Robert, much in the same way.

Dead dead dead.

"SPENCER! SPENCER! SPENCER!" She screamed and rolled over, her back to him and buried her head under her pillow as she felt the knife slice through her back over and over and over. Blood spreading under her and staining her sheets.

--

Spencer heard the screams from the living room where he was on the phone. "What's that, Spence?" asked JJ on the other line.

"Haley?" Spencer asked, standing up. "Listen, JJ, I'll see you tomorrow and we'll talk then okay?"

JJ consented quietly and hung up, leaving Spencer to slam his phone shut and sprint to Haley's room.

The lights were off, and she was thrashing in her blankets, screaming and sobbing. "SPENCER!" she screamed, her voice hoarse from the intensity of her prior screams. "SPEN-CER!"

He knew better than to wake her up, but seeing her in this state… he couldn't just watch her. He walked over to the side of the bed and sat down, contemplating shaking her awake, but didn't. _Don't make things worse_, he thought to himself. He didn't touch her, but watched as her struggles against the imaginary Edgar Cross grew weaker and weaker as he overpowered her in the dream, and then she ceased to move, essentially dying in her dream. She woke up screaming.

"Haley!" Spencer shouted, catching her as she shot upright. "Hales, you're alright," he whispered to her. "You're okay, safe, with me. I'm here, Haley."

She clutched at his back as she embraced him, gasping for air, as though making sure he were still alive, still there. When she established his presence, her body collapsed into body-throttling sobs. Spencer held her tighter, scared, though he would never admit it to her. He was terrified of what she might be seeing in her head. He hated to imagine what would happen if he weren't there when she woke up from one of her fits.

Her sobs died down a bit into whimpers and he still held her close, though his shoulder was sufficiently wet. "How are you?"

"Fine, fine. In a minute, I'll shine," she mumbled.

"Sorry?"

"Hm?" she looked at him with her bright blue, bloodshot eyes. So similar… why did he think of Diana Reid now?

Because she just inadvertently rhymed, perfectly rhymed with what seemed to be intention of doing so, with no memory of doing so, a signal indicating schizophrenia.


	5. Waiting Room

**A/N: **Surprised? So was I when I thought of that little twist. I don't own Criminal Minds, by the way.

**Five**

Spencer sat next to Haley in the psychologist's office. Old magazines were piled on every bleached white table. The smell of ammonia rose from just about everything. It wasn't a place someone would be comfortable with spewing their guts out to a stranger; he hoped the actual offices were cozier than the waiting room.

"Why do I even have to be here right now?" Haley scowled in a hushed tone. "I'm missing school."

Reid knew she didn't give a rat's ass about school. She was missing Greg, but he wasn't going to say anything about it… intentionally.

"I don't even remember what I said last night."

"You rhymed."

"And I know that should sufficiently freak you out… but to this extreme? I _don't even remember it!_"

_But she still rhymed,_ Spencer thought. _She doesn't remember it. She has Diana's eyes, what else did she inherit from our mother? Diana. Diana. Diana. Diana. Haley in a straight jacket._

He shook his head slowly at the thought. How dare he? She hadn't even been diagnosed… yet… yet? He was worrying himself ragged, and it was apparent every time he passed a mirror. He had never considered himself attractive, but never really sickly either. Well, the healthy look had come and gone with Haley's appearance. "Please, Hales, just humor me here, okay?"

She looked at his pleading expression and relaxed a bit in her chair, nodding. "Alright Spence," she whispered. She didn't want to be like her mother. A deeply rooted fear of losing what all she had built up, her mind, rose its ugly head again. Terrifying. The repeating thought was meandering around her head. _What if I have it?_

"Meandering around, pet dander is abound…" she whispered. _What?! Why did I say that? What if I-? What did I say? No. It's fine._

Spencer did not look fine. In fact, he looked at her with a face that he was trying to keep from horrified. "Hales?"

"Yes?" she asked, innocently. She had no clue. His sister had _no clue_. Did that mean he would have no clue? If he had it… no. He would never realize it. The thought scared him to the core and he leaned back in his red polyester chair, sighing, stretching his hands to his knees.

"Reid?" called a woman from the door. She was smiling at them, not really sure what a set like that would need in a psychologists office.

Haley and Spencer shot up and followed her back past a few rooms. She was pretty, short blonde hair, big blue eyes. The way she carried herself reminded Spencer of JJ and he was off. "Here we are," she said cheerily and opened the door. "Dr. Herman will be here in just a minute."

The room was cozier than the waiting room, thankfully. Spencer stood, indicating that Haley should sit down. She did, reluctantly. "You okay?" Spencer breathed.

"Sure," she muttered.

"Listen, Haley, this is for you. I don't want you to have to… go through whatever Diana went through. I don't want you to wind up like her. Your speech patterns have altered to those of someone who has alogia. You're at a heightened sense of emotion. You're… having psychotic episodes."

Haley stood up and slapped him. "And where's my prescription Dr. Reid?! I saw my adoptive parents hanging from the rafters of the house I grew up in with their _eyes gouged out_ and you expect me not to get a little less responsive? You expect me _not_ to have emotional issues? A bad dream here and there?" Tears pooled up on her bottom eyelids and spilled over. "And after all of that? A move from the South to the North, my parents being killed, my best friends being killed, a psychotic attack on me, changing schools, and being marked as a social _freak_ for what I know? I'm on my _period!_ Now you're telling me that I'm schizophrenic! I'm _not _going to be hunky dory after all of that, Spencer! I'm not trained to be like you are! You see people shot nearly every time you have a case and can still come home and eat dinner like it was just another day! I can't do that Spence! It takes me time to heal, to recover, to process and acknowledge that, yes, those two lives are no longer here on this Earth. I will never be able to hug my mom again, and I'll never be able to see my dad smile when I get an academic award. He'll never reach his arm out and squeeze my shoulder. She'll never be able to cry whenever it's the first day of a new grade. With all that you know, Spencer, how can you not understand that I'm shaken up?"

Spencer opened his mouth and closed it. On one hand, she was right, he was overreacting. On the other… what if that outburst was a symptom? He hated himself for thinking that way, for not trusting her, but how could he? "Hales, I-"

"I don't care," she sat back down.

He took a deep breath and sat down next to her. Where the hell was this doctor? "Haley?" No response. "You aren't listening to me, are you? Being a teenage girl, that's it." He smiled at himself; an outsider could tell he was new at this. "Haley, I'm sorry. I worry, I worry a _lot_. And before you came along, it was only a worry about me, wondering if _I _could have any of these symptoms. Every day I would check myself for anything abnormal. Now you're here, and I don't think of myself that much anymore. When you rhymed… and you didn't remember it… that rocked me to the core. It made me realize that, yeah, you could get it too. We're from the same gene pool, you know? I might be making symptoms up, or 

imagining them, but wouldn't you rather catch it ahead of time? You know, if on the off chance you _did _have schizophrenia?"

She turned and looked at him, tears still running down her cheeks. "No, I'm sorry."

He smiled at her. "Where on Earth is that doctor right now?"

She shrugged, not willing to speak partly because of her crackling voice from the crying, another part being acutely aware of her short answers. What was better? Alogia or just not talking? "I don't know, talking to that nurse you were eyeing?"

"What?" his voice shot up.

"I saw you, Doc."

"Well, sure, she's pretty, but I wasn't thinking of her like _that_."

She smiled a sneaky smile. "Of course you weren't. You like JJ too much."

"Yeah, I- HALEY!"

Haley laughed a little, her face still red. Her head snapped up when she saw the doorknob turn and a tall, brunette man walked in. "Hello, I'm Dr. Herman."


End file.
